


These Streets Will Never Be The Same

by aybeexinfinity



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Mostly Smut, a little fluff, why are my crushes in this game impossible to romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:13:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28607295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aybeexinfinity/pseuds/aybeexinfinity
Summary: A sunset snack run on the flipside of a mission leads V and Goro down a path they can't easily retreat from.warnings for: mention of sex workers, brief description of physical assault.
Relationships: Goro Takemura & Female V, Goro Takemura & V, Goro Takemura/Female V
Comments: 40
Kudos: 265





	These Streets Will Never Be The Same

V was only slightly starting to regret the plan. It was too cold and she was too exposed; literally and figuratively. Not so easy to get in any ballistic protection when you’re posing as a joytoy. V’s usual style was sacrificed for the role she’d signed on to play. Anything to fix the chip in her head, right?

Jig Jig Street’s overwhelming lights colour shifted all around her, a red-blue-pink-purple mix of evocative hues intended to make anyone who walked by horny enough to pay for something. Skin, synth, pseudo, anything would do. She was there, in the midst of the die-hards and casual visitors, for the sole purpose of blending in. She trusted the intel they’d gotten from Wakako’s contact, trusted the assurance from the joytoy who’d been recruited that she would do what they asked, and she trusted the Arasaka bodyguard who had pulled her from a junkyard not to fuck her over when this was all said and done. Whole lotta trust going around for someone who got a bullet to the brain from their own fixer.

Least Deshawn got his too.

The oversized holographic jacket V wore crinkled horribly when she moved, the vinyl sticking to the few hot points on her skin where sweat fought its way to the surface. The material went down to her thighs, a good few inches longer than the sequin-covered skirt that she’d found on a discount rack in Kabuki Market. The shirt, or lacktherof, was just one of her old bras. It was the kind of kitschy nightmare that she’d gone ga-ga over several years back, neon pink and leopard print and really overselling the goods they contained.

V went over the plan again in her mind as if would somehow cement things into working out properly. ‘Saka guard shows up for some downtime. Said guard picks up his favourite joytoy. Joytoy takes her time to wind him in on the street, letting V trail after them so they could clone his holo and credentials. It would make their crazy plot to reach Hanako during the parade a whole lot easier if they knew exactly what the guards were saying. Even easier so if she was granted the same access as one of their higher-ranking meatheads.

The joytoy, Zirconia she called herself, was all too content to spill details on the guy for a few hundred eddies. More than she was bound to get out of him, anyways, so it was a win-win. She’d gotten a little _too_ in-depth about their target, leaving V to wonder what it was about guys in positions of power that so desperately loved to be dominated by women they perceived to be lesser than them.

“He is coming.” Takemura’s voice sounded in her ear, startling her. V straightened up from her resting position against the fence on the footbridge, looking around for the target.

“ _Not yet he’s not._ ” She joked under her breath, pulling down the collar of her jacket so it sat draped at her shoulders.

“V.” Takemura groaned, annoyed both with her crass humour and inability to have a stick up her ass about the current job.

She pulled a third-rate comm from her pocket and started to aimlessly scroll, doing her best to look as distracted as possible. Cracking open the can of Nicola Sakura she’d bought on the way in, V took a big gulp while scanning the crowds until she locked onto the target.

He was a lot…bigger than she’d imagined. Taller, broader, and so muscle-y she would’ve thought him a gangoon with the Animals if he wasn’t ID’d as a ‘Saka guard. It made her a little unnerved, sure, but it also just really hammered home the disbelief that a guy like that’s deepest desire was to take a strap-on from skinny broke girls.

Zirconia, ever the professional, knew better than to look V’s way when she caught sight of the guy. _Perry Neron_. Instead, she took a few steps away from the bridge to make sure he’d see her first. Guy stood a head above most of the people clogging up the street; impossible to miss. Whether consciously or not, people tended to move out of his way as he walked. V watched his approach, trying to calculate how much longer till he was close enough for her to launch the daemon. T-Bug was around the last time she needed to bypass Arasaka ICE, so V didn’t exactly know how much of a fight she’d need to put up with Neron.

V watched, and from someplace hidden so did Takemura, as Neron approached Zirconia. V drank another gulp from her can, trying to look away from him while still watching. The target approached their joytoy co-conspirator, brief words exchanged that were impossible to catch over the din of the crowd. When the man’s eyes flicked up and caught V’s, she immediately looked away. Drinking from her Nicola, she scrolled on the comm that she’d found in a trashcan to perfect her back-alley chic aesthetic.

When Takemura cursed under his breath, V didn’t need to ask him why. She could see from her periphery as the target began to approach. She’d been made, she was sure of it. How, she didn’t know, but he had abandoned Zirconia entirely and was headed right for her. V was working on a backup plan, though unable to say as much to Takemura without looking like she was talking to herself.

“Don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” Neron said matter-of-factly when he finally approached her. His hands were in his coat pockets and, while she couldn’t see it, she knew he had a weapon on him somewhere. She found herself wondering if she could somehow take him in hand-to-hand combat if she managed to corral him into a back-alley. “You new?”

“I’m on a break.” She said in the best bored tone she could muster, booting up her cyberdeck to try and breach his ICE. If he was going to attack her, the least she could do was try and get what they came for. “Come back in an hour.”

“Was sorta hoping for something a little more immediate.” He said, reaching out and running his hand down her side to settle on her ass. Was he checking her for weapons? As if she had any sort of storage capacity in her outfit? Or worse, was he…actually hoping to pick her up? Shit, that was one outcome they had _not_ planned for.

“Yeah? Gonna make it worth my while?” She turned on what charm she could muster, looking up at him and laying a hand on his abdomen. He looked like he could snap her in half and she’d be lying if she wasn’t a little concerned.

“Going rate, ‘n then some if you make it worth _mine_.” He shrugged, eyes taking their time to slide over her body. If she took him to a hotel, she didn’t doubt he could force her if he wanted. Then again, at least in a hotel she had some hope for backup from Takemura. The hell was he supposed to do in broad daylight in the middle of Jig-Jig Street?

“Alright then. Just let me finish this.” She lifted the Nicola to her lips, maintaining eye contact while she drank it slowly. He licked his lips at her, oblivious to the fact that she had made it through his ICE. With careful execution, she set her daemon loose in his system.

“Mmm, I’ll give something much better to slide down your throat.” He said, nearly causing her to break character and laugh. Why did guys talk like poorly written BDs? What did they think was alluring about it?

“Oh, I’m sure you will big boy.” She tried to mask the patronizing tone as best she could, looking around for an alley that could suit her needs while the daemon worked on data retrieval. Crushing the empty drink can under her incredibly uncomfortable see-through heels, she wondered if the shoes could function as a weapon if push came to shove. “This way.”

The interface in the bottom right corner of her optics showed the progress bar for the data collection: 12%. As she led the target away from the crowded streets, away from the onlookers who could call the NCPD on her, she found herself wondering just how badly she needed the data. How far would she go for it—what was the line she wouldn’t cross? Surely there would be other targets they could get the details from, right?

“You got a place ‘round here or somethin’?” He asked her as they finally found a secluded area. There was a dumpster, a chain link fence separating them from the more reputable establishments on the other side, and a whack of Tyger Claws graffiti to remind people in just her position whose ground they were about to get fucked on.

“What’s your rush?” She teased, running a hand down his arm. 32%.

“V, be careful.” Takemura said, making her stifle a sigh in response. _Yeah, no shit_ , she wanted to say. If he was still listening, maybe he’d be the one to call the whole thing off on her behalf.

“So you are new to the street, then?” He pushed her against the wall as he spoke, leaning an arm beside her head. It was no doubt meant to be sexy, but boy it just came off as threatening. She nodded in response to his question, reaching up and brushing her hair behind her ear. A coy look with a purpose: she pressed the shard in her slot to make sure it was fully inserted. If it wasn’t the data would have nowhere to go once it was packaged up by the daemon. “Guess that means I get to break you in.”

“Sure does.” She offered a smile, wondering if she was meant to ask for payment now or later. She really should have thought to ask Zirconia some of this stuff—and Goro, with all his planning and attention to detail, should have foresaw this possibility. At least, that was the angry thought she entertained to find a target for her emotions. Neron leaned in to kiss her and she turned away out of reflex. He laughed, as if it was part of some game for him, and took a deep breath in. Well, V could cross _been sniffed luridly by a stranger_ off her never-have-I-ever scorecard. 49%.

“This place you got…Stocked with toys?” Neron asked, kissing at her neck in lieu of her mouth. V fought the urge to hit him, push him away, or better yet make use of her arsenal of weapons she’d slowly amassed.

“Got more toys than the Chubby Buffalo.” She promised, watching in borderline agony as the progress bar inched onwards. 60%. “Before we get the party started, any preferences I should focus on? Topics to avoid?”

He looked at her quizzically at that, pulling away to study her. V felt her heartrate pick up, wondering if she’d outed herself as a fraud. The job hadn’t exactly come with a playbook, after all.

“I mean, it’s whatever I feel like doing. I’m paying.” He said curtly, clearly offended by her question. She wondered if it was some hidden shame he felt about his bedroom affinities that caused the 180.

“Of course it is.” She replied with her attempt at a sultry smile. “Just want to make you feel good is all.”

74%. Close, but not close enough to call it quits. She watched as he processed her words, running some daemons of his own in the form of thought trains. Decision matrixes. Weighted averages. It culminated in a decision ultimately governed by the weak point between his legs. He settled for kissing her neck again, reaching a hand up to grope at her breast. When he snake his other between her legs she immediately pushed him away, unable to fight the knee-jerk reaction that had been drilled into her since puberty.

“What the fuck?” He was past second guessing: now he was angry. Paying customers don’t get their hands swatted like little kids getting chastised in public. _Shit_. Could she salvage this? 89%. Could she 11% salvage this? “What are you, some fuckin’ cop?”

“A cop?” She asked incredulously. _Nah, just a fake joytoy with her share of trauma._ “Relax, Perry. I just didn’t want to get the show on the road in the open. Let’s go to my place, it’s not far.”

She took his hand in hers, walking two steps towards the way they came, but was yanked back roughly. His affect had switched entirely; he looked at her with anger encapsulated in distrust. He pushed her against the wall and wrapped both hands around her throat.

“I never told you my fuckin’ name.” He growled, squeezing tight around her windpipe. Her limbs fought back independently of her mind, which was very much stuck on a loop of _shit, shit, shit, shit, shit._ She clawed at his face, kicked at his legs, tried fruitlessly to pry his fingers from her throat. None of it mattered, not in the face of such unnatural force.

As white started to cloud the edges of her vision, she wondered if the daemon would keep working while she was unconscious. Yet another element she hadn’t paused to consider while she and Takemura were planning this ridiculous venture. Her lungs were burning now, a sure sign that she’d be out before she knew it. Without air, her brain would K.O. and leave her somehow even more helpless than she already was. If she died a second time, would the Relic bring her back? It was a question she really wasn’t hoping to find an answer to.

A deep breath of pollution filled air filled her lungs, V’s nails gripping for traction on the brick wall behind her. It wouldn’t keep her from falling, but it helped her tell up from down in the midst of her confusion. Blinking away the oncoming emergency shutdown ordered by her brain, V was able to refocus on the target. She was planning for a fight, or a weapon, or something she needed to react to; instead, she was greeted with the bulging eyes of a man experiencing a swift kick in the ass in the form of karmic retribution.

Takemura, her silent watcher, had certainly fallen into his old habits as a bodyguard. Wherever he had materialized from, he was now holding their target in a rear chokehold so tight she could see his face changing colour. The target, right, their mission. V checked the interface– 96%.

“It’s—” She paused, coughing harshly while trying to catch her breath. “It’s not done yet.”

Takemura looked up at her, understanding her request, and eased off on the chokehold just enough to let a burst of air through. Buying time, that’s all he could do. V watched breathlessly, hands braced on her knees, while the man flailed around. He reached out, nearly grabbing hold of her, but Takemura held him back. While she didn’t doubt some weak gangoon of the street wasn’t first in line to be Arasaka’s personal bodyguard, it was more than a little shocking to see just how well he handled someone thrice his size.

“99…and…Verifying…” V scrolled through the data with her eyes, ensuring that everything from content to control access had been copied to the shard. When she was absolutely certain, she nodded to Takemura. He proceeded to finish the job, cutting the target’s air supply off entirely and letting him unceremoniously fall to the ground. He hit the cement with a notable thud, V resisting the urge to kick him for her trouble. “Well. That actually turned out half-way decent all things considered.”

“I would not want to see what it is you consider a failure.” Takemura replied cooly, looking back at the dumpster and reaching to lift the lid. V moved to grab the target’s ankles, make an attempt to help, but she was waved off. Instead she fell back against the wall, rubbing at her neck and wondering if she’d bruise something awful. The dumpster lid slammed down with a harsh noise, sealing the target inside. He’d wake up with a bruised ego and that classic dumpster musk, but he’d be alive. The Kiroshi implants in V’s head would save her from any facial recognition he may have had in his system, which meant they should be off scot free. “We should go. Can you walk?”

“Yeah, Goro, I can walk.” She said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “Not half as useless as you think I am, you know.”

“I never said you were useless.” He admitted as they walked back to Jig-Jig Street. “I said only you were a thief. And that you are not good with subtlety.”

Re-entering the busy street provided an element of comfort, a blanket of no-one-ness that made her feel safe from prying eyes. V made sure to stop by Zirconia, brushing off her apologies for things not going to plan, and paying her all the same.

As they left behind the noise and lights, Takemura’s Villefort Columbus came into view. It was as nondescript a vehicle as one could hope to get in Night City, but that didn’t make being inside it any less dreadful. The thing could barely hit the speed limit let alone drive with any real power. She knew that delivery vans didn’t _need_ any real power, but what was the point of a van if you couldn’t floor it now and then?

“Hey, Wakako.” V said through her holo as the call connected. Takemura raised an eyebrow at her while he brought the van to life, easing it off the curb and back into traffic. “Could you go ahead and put that order through? I’m about twenty minutes out.”

“Of course, V. And thank you again for settling that matter with Bill Jablonsky.” Okada said, kindly leaving out the narrative. V really didn’t feel like thinking about the shitshow that was that gig, but it ended with her being paid and a contract closed—what else mattered to a fixer? “Submitting now.”

“Preem.” With that she ended the call, flicking a set of coordinates to Goro. His eyes flickered blue while receiving the message, adjusting the steering wheel in minute movements. “Mind if we stop here? Got a little something I need to pick up.”

He said nothing in response but altered his course all the same, leading away from her apartment and further south in Westbrook. V pulled down the visor and slid over the cover so she could look in the mirror. Craning her neck, she winced slightly as she pressed at her neck. Definitely bloomin’ a bruise. Okada’s message came through, a simple set of directions for her to follow once they arrived. It was definitely not the type of thing she expected to be so covert and hush-hush, but given the rarity of the commodity it made sense.

As they approached Lele Park, Takemura followed the directions through the side streets to the luxury apartments. V told him to park out back, waiting until they were in front of the fire exit to follow Wakako’s orders. She messaged the number provided, gave her order number, and sent a live track of her position for verification.

“What are we—” Takemura was cut off by V’s indignant _shh_. She promised he’d see, keeping her eyes trained on the door. It was exactly two and a half minutes when it opened, a thin man walking out with a plastic bag. It was full with square containers, handles neatly tied at the top. V rolled down the window, confirmed her number, and accepted the bag from him. He bowed and disappeared back into the building, leaving V to put the window back up and settle the bag between her feet.

“Okay, so…Did a thing. No good for right here, though. Mind drivin’ a spell?” She asked, seeing his confusion and intrigue rise in tandem. “Not too far, promise.”

He offered no response, simply grunted and reversed out of the parking area. V gave him directions out of the side streets and onto the 101, watching as the city rolled past out the window. They drove by four separate accidents, one of which seemed to be caused by a gangoon shooting in process, but thankfully they had missed any lane closures. As they neared the eastern side of Santo Domingo, V told Takemura to swap high road for side road.

Climbing the winding path up the hills called for just about every ounce of horsepower that the old Columbus could muster, but it was sure as hell worth it. The van veered off into a parking lot near the top of the hill, a few stray cars there to drink in the scenery. Takemura parked away from the other vehicles, facing the van outwards at the city.

The sun had already started its descent for the day, the big orange globe covered by Night City’s defiantly tall towers and megabuildings. It spared them the eye-piercing brightness but left them with the good stuff: a sky painted in oranges, pinks, and purples. V reached over and shut the van’s ignition off, plunging them into silence. And not city-silence, where you could still hear cars and sirens and music and yelling, but real silence where all you heard was the distant feedback of your own body humming along in your ears. V let out a contented sigh, sinking back into the seat. Takemura looked out at the vista and then back to her.

“’Member when you said there was nothing about Night City to admire? Back when we were staking out the Arasaka warehouse?” She asked, keeping her eyes on the cityscape below. “You weren’t wrong. It’s a shitshow, and a cesspool, and all kinds of fucked up. But now and then, you catch these glimpses. Right angle, right lighting, and all the blemishes kinda blur. Nothing’s perfect, blah blah, but from up here…well. Hard to see the blood stains from here.”

Goro thought about what she said, taking in the same view as she was but from an entirely different spot. The dying light hit the lines of his cybernetics that ran across the bridge of his nose, catching on the various metals that now lay defunct in his skin. When he at last looked over to meet her eye, he offered a single, solitary nod.

“It is not so different from Chiba-11. A place of great wealth, and greater despair.” He admitted, nodding once more but this time to himself. “We do not have such terrible food, though.”

“Well, funny you should mention that…” V said, reaching for the bag between her feet and heaving it up onto her lap. Untying the handles with some difficulty, V pulled out the three separate boxes and lay them beside one another on the dash. “Cashed in my eddies for a favour on the last gig with Wakako. So if this is a big waste of money, it’s all on her, got it?”

“What is this?” He asked, looking over each of the nondescript boxes. She reached over and opened them one by one, revealing the contents within. All had been mentioned, at one point or another, by the bodyguard. She figured that meant they were favourites of some kind, or just something he was itching for.

“Onigiri with Cod, some with grilled salmon, this one is yakitori, and lastly is good ol’ udon. Though I’m sure you didn’t actually need me to explain all that.” She reached into the bag and offered a set of chopsticks to Takemura, taking one for herself and setting the stack of napkins between them. “Well, go on.”

With more than a little apprehensiveness, she watched as he reached out and took one of the onigiri triangles. He smelled it first, as if she was pranking him and it wasn’t actually food, but took the plunge and bit some off. He let the rice, seaweed, and cod sit on his tongue for a few moments, properly taking in their flavour, before proceeding to chew. V waited with bated breath, watching as he chewed and chewed and chewed and swallowed. He sat for a moment with his eyes shut before looking over at her.

“This is…real?” He asked hesitantly, as if not wanting to know if his palette was so abused by the foods of Night City that he could no longer tell the difference.

“It sure as hell better be for what I traded.” She reached forward and grabbed one of the yakitori skewers, sinking her teeth into a piece and ripping it off the bamboo stick. “Holy _shit_. I don’t think I’ve had real meat since…probably since right before Konpeki Plaza. Celebratory feast and all.”

“Why would you celebrate _before_ you achieved your mission?” He asked indignantly, finishing off the onigiri in a few quick bites and reaching for another.

“Never had a _one last hurrah_ moment?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He shook his head, eyes trained on the food as he ate it slowly. “It’s uh…well, you celebrate a little before in case you don’t make it through to celebrate after. You splurge a little, buy booze above your tax bracket and spring for the real meat, real fruit, whatever. Give yourself one night to enjoy all the things you normally can’t budget for cause either you’ll be ordering all that shit more often or you won’t be alive to miss it.”

“Hmm.” He grunted, taking one of the yakitori skewers for himself. V helped herself to the salmon onigiri, mimicking the way Takemura ate it so she wouldn’t give him another reason to tease her. “And this? What is our last hurrah?”

“Bout to try and land uninvited on Hanako Arasaka’s float in the middle of a parade half the city is attending. A reason as good as any, I’d say.” She bit off another two pieces of the perfectly cooked meat, revelling in the delicacy. “’Sides, I know how much you hate the local food so I figured Wakako would have a hook up _somewhere_ who could make the real deal.”

He ate from the skewer, bite by bite, all while looking out at Night City. The usual furrowed brow he sported was curiously absent, which she took to mean she’d done alright. _Nothin’ worse than being homesick, ‘cept being homesick and hunted._

“Thank you, V.” Takemura said after a while, taking the final cod onigiri and offering her the salmon.

“Ah, it’s nothing.” She shrugged, holding the triangle carefully to avoid ruining it. “Feels only more appropriate now, considering your bout of heroics back on Jig-Jig Street. So, uh, I guess thank _you_. For that.”

V opted to ditch the crinkly coat she had, tossing it into the back with her other things, the sound of it starting to wear down her nerves. The two of them ate in silence, watching as the city lights became less like afterthoughts and more like intentions. She found herself thinking about Jackie, wondering if and how any of this would be different had he survived. Would she still be the one with the relic in her head? Would Deshawn have just killed them both?

When V reached for the udon, she had no illusions about consuming the dish. She could see Takemura watching her from the corner of his eye as she reached into the plastic bag to get the fork that was requested. Holding the take-out box, she gracelessly sank the fork in and twirled the noodles around.

“Leave me and my uncultured ass alone, Goro.” She said, feeling the judgement without needing to see it on his face. Bringing the fork to her mouth and catching the stray noodles with her tongue, V took her first bite of authentically sourced and prepared udon.

“I said nothing.” He defended himself, refocusing on the food. V took a few more bites before passing the udon off to him, going for the last yakitori.

“Yeah, but you were thinkin’ it.” She retorted, sinking back into the second-hand seat with her skewer. If somehow this insane plan to corner Hanako Arasaka at a very public parade didn’t completely go to shit, there was a glimmer of hope for the future. Hope for Takemura to restore his name and avenge Saburo Arasaka’s death. Hope for V to get a terrorist out of her head and maybe not die from her own brain deteriorating in a few months’ time.

Just the thought of it was enough to make her dizzy with misplaced yearning, dreaming of this happy-ending future that didn’t (yet) exist. Maybe like Misty said, if she put out good energy it’d come right back to find her. V looked over at Takemura and frowned at the sight of him. He was nearly finished eating a freshly cooked array of real meat made by a real Japanese chef, outside the city he loathed, and spared from the grating noise and smells. Yet, despite all that, he still looked constricted as ever. On edge, waiting for the pendulum’s final swing, for the pin to drop. She heaved out a sigh. It wasn’t for lack of her trying.

“Beautiful sunset, escape from the city, killer food—how the _hell_ are you still so tense?” She asked with a shake of her head, watching as he squirmed uncomfortably beneath her scrutinous gaze.

“We have not yet completed our mission.” He explained simply, wiping his mouth with one of the napkins. “When Yorinobu Arasaka has answered for his crimes, and Hanako-sama helps with the Relic, then we can…relax.”

“Suit yourself.” She sighed, crushing up a napkin to clean her lips and tossing it into the plastic bag. She shoved the rest of garbage and empty containers into the bag and tied it off, opening the van door and sliding off the seat to the ground. Her steps on the dirt ground were notably more difficult in her shoes than the pavement was, but she made it to the garbage can and back without tripping. Once back inside, V reached between the seats to grab her real shoes, flailing her hand around to no avail. Bracing one hand on the side of Takemura’s seat, she wedged her body between the seats instead and grabbed at her bag. As she settled back into her seat, she felt eyes lingering on her and looked up. Instead of an expression of judgement or his usual blank look, V saw his gaze line up a little lower than it should have. Well, a lot lower. She still hadn’t changed out of her joytoy look, so what could have normally been brushed off as bad timing had fallen very firmly into undeniable territory. V’s eyes went wide and a smirk spread on her face. “Shit, Goro, are you checking me out?”

His head snapped away at her words and he quickly shook his head, now entirely avoiding her eye. “No.” He said simply, refusing to elaborate or even attempt to provide an explanation. If she didn’t know any better, she could have sworn she saw the very faintest hint of a blush creeping up his neck. Maybe it was just the way his cybernetics looked in the fading daylight.

“Sure looked like you were.” She was amused to say the least, but when she sat back to look at him, she wondered if he had inadvertently provided a solution to his problem. His very strict, very uptight, very rigid way of holding himself problem. The kind that could really fuck up a mission if not provided a counterbalance.

V knew very well that they dealt with things in different ways. She prepared for their mission by splurging on food and drinks. Hell, she’d probably swing by El Coyote Cojo for a real send off the night before the parade. But Takemura, what could he do beside sit in his hideout alone and consult his plans over and over? Guy needed an out like nobody’s business. Chewing at her lip for just a moment, she reached out and tentatively lay her hand on his thigh. He frowned, looking down at where she was touching him, but offered no signs of refusal. Sliding her hand slowly up his thigh, V watched the bodyguard carefully for any indication that she should stop, or that her touch was unwanted. When her fingertips brushed his groin, she slowly cupped her hand around his bulge.

He took in a breath and gritted his teeth, watching her hand but unable to meet her eye. “What are you doing?” He asked, tone lacking all its usual authority and surety. V leaned a little closer and rubbed up and down the fabric. His body was reacting rapidly, the swelling apparent even through the fabric.

“Can’t have you all wound up for the parade.” She said simply, rubbing her hand over home in earnest now. “Gotta get rid of your tension somehow.”

It wasn’t entirely false. She didn’t want to rely on someone who was distracted or frustrated just cause he hadn’t been laid in a while. Assumptions, she knew, but based on how he was reacting to her touch alone she felt pretty confident about her guess.

But also, there was something about him that she was into. Looks wise, specifically. Maybe it was the cybernetics, maybe it was the formalwear, maybe it was just the mean look on his face and how it looked when those features softened. And maybe, just maybe, she was sort of into him too. She didn’t exactly try to jerk off just anyone, after all.

Slipping her hand between the fabric of his clothes and his skin, V lowered her hand until she could wrap around the length of him. Skin on skin, she pumped him twice, slowly, and then moved just a fraction closer.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” She said seriously, not about to coerce him into something he didn’t wholeheartedly want. He looked her in the eye and hesitated, fighting some battle in his head, before finally shaking his head, unable to bring himself to say the words. V didn’t need more of a cue than that, resuming her movement at a decidedly slow pace. He looked around at the few cars that lingered in the parking lot, as if this was the place the Appropriate Police would be called to, but seemed to think better of his apprehension.

With the hurdle overcome, V pulled her hand away to work open the belt on his pants. It was a simple mechanism that always felt more complex in a heat-of-the-moment rush to rip open. When she got it open, she set to work on the button of his pants, followed soon after by the short zipper. He watched her intently, hands remaining motionless at his sides, and swallowed hard when she wrapped around him, tugging him free from the confines of his clothes.

“ _Shit_ , Goro.” She said, more than a little breathless at the sight of him. While her mind had dabbled in its share of fantasies about the bodyguard, she certainly hadn’t planned on him being so…much. “Glad to see you kept _this_ all ‘ganic.”

He didn’t respond, perhaps worried if he did either he would put his walls back up or she would second-guess her impulsive decision. Switching hands, she reached over and pushed the adjustment button on the seat to lay him back a bit. It gave her more space, the car already providing enough obstacles with confinement. V braced one hand on the side of his seat for support as she started at last to pump him in earnest. A small noise escaped him, a kind of satisfaction she’d never heard from the bodyguard, and she spurred onwards in hopes of a repeat.

She kept a measured pace, tugging gently at the length of him while watching intently for his restrained reactions. His insistence on constraint was exactly what was holding him back, contributing to the rigidity coiled tight throughout his body. It was his signature look, and a facet of him that she was hoping to break. V leaned over him, eyes meeting his, before drawing close to his neck. Flicking her tongue out at the tip of his jawline, she kissed at the spot where his skin meshed with metal. The now-defunct cybernetics, a testament to just how far he’d fallen in Arasaka’s eyes, offered a kind of hypersensitivity for him that sparked her interest. His whole body twitched at the contact, so she focused her attention to the lines that separated skin from metal. She licked at him, kissed him, and very gently nipped at him until she was rewarded with a low moan.

“Like the way that feels?” She asked in a dangerous tone, musing at the way he struggled to process her words. He managed a short, quick nod by way of response, but it wasn’t what she was looking for. “Can’t hear you, Goro.”

V used her free hand to unbutton his dress shirt, listening to his body’s reaction and bringing her lips to the rest of his implants. It made him shudder, even hiss, but he still didn’t respond. Reaching for his hand, she pried open his fingers and guided his palm to her breast. He refused to react at first, holding back like he was doing in nearly every other capacity, but when she slipped his hand under the fabric of her bra he finally caved in. He felt her up in earnest, fingertips familiarizing themselves with her skin, and earning a noise of contentment from her lips. His hips jerked up into her hand at that and she smirked, more than a little satisfied that he was responsive to that. He tugged down the confines of her bra, using the bunched-up cloth and wire to pull her closer. V mused as the bodyguard touched and squeezed at her, taking each nipple between his forefinger and thumb until they had hardened into stiff peaks.

His mouth was slightly agape as he focused on her, his hips still pumping weakly into her fist clenched around him. It felt like she was a teenager again, fooling around in the car with a guy who was thrilled just to have her touch him. There was something immensely satisfying about having an Arasaka-trained soldier well on his way to grovelling for her. He still refused to admit it aloud, though, and that was next on her agenda to fix.

Bringing her lips back to his chest, V kissed down his middle in slow, determined bouts. Down, past his belly button, following the trail of black hair all the way down. She felt him tense up as she kissed his pelvic bones, edging closer and closer, until she at long last brushed her lips against the base of his cock. V held onto him just below the head, laying her tongue flat against his shaft and dragging it upwards in a single languid movement. His legs twitched at the sensation, eyes fixated on the sight of her as she repeated the gesture a few times.

When at long last she took him into her mouth, it was a purposefully painfully slow movement. Inch by inch she swallowed him, deeper and deeper, until her nose brushed against the soft bed of curls at his groin.

“くそ… kuso… _fuck_ ” the translator worked quickly to take the word from kanji to roman letters to English. It did its job, making sense of the foreign word, and the corners of V’s lips turned up at the understanding. Takemura’s hands dug deeply into the old fabric of the van seat, edging closer to her goal of making him give up control.

V eased off of him, a gentle _pop_ resonating through the metal shell of the van. Her hand moved up and down the length of him with greater ease thanks to her saliva, but she was absolutely eating up the way he looked down at her. Flicking her tongue back and forth over his tip, she sucked at the top of his cock like she was a joytoy expecting a big fat eddie transfer. If she was being honest with herself, hearing the strained noises that slipped past the bodyguard’s defenses was reward enough.

Her lips were the tiniest bit swollen when she sat up, leaning right close to his ear. “I’ll need you to be a little louder than that.” She said in whisper, briefly kissing his neck before sinking right back down and taking him in deep. She didn’t want him to use the slow pace to keep himself laced up; instead she made use of everything she could. While her lips slipped up and down the length of him, one hand followed close after. Her free hand reached down and took hold of his balls, flexing one finger at a time against them in a repetitive wave.

The Arasaka bodyguard bucked up into her mouth at that, a string of curses leaving him so quickly her translator couldn’t keep up. She could hear his breaths growing shallower by the second, a sure sign she was on the right track. Letting her hand take care of his length, V focused her lips on his tip, running circles around his head with the end of her tongue.

Finally, he moved one hand away from the seat to slide into her hair, taking hold of her far rougher than she would have imagined. The measured control was slowly crumbling as his hips moved a little more frantically into her mouth. His other hand slid down her back and under the hem of her skirt, grabbing of her underwear and yanking it—and her—towards him. He held on like it was a handle designed for just such an occasion, the curses falling fast and furious in between his shuddering breaths. She kept at him with a demanding pace, spit trailing down the sides of him from her mouth.

“V, I’m—” He warned, unable to recall or form the word. “I’m—”

She didn’t need a translator to know what he meant. Laying a hand firmly against his chest, she effectively held him in place while he inched closer to the edge. Within a few moments the hand in her hair clenched tightly into a fist, pulling at her roots. He jerked into her, the heat of his cum splashing hard against the back of her throat. She worked hard to take it all down, fighting to keep up with the waves as they left him. V kept her pace up until his shuddering turned his whole body slack, the weight of him falling back against the seat.

V finally pulled away from him, sitting up and wiping her mouth on one of the remaining napkins. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling of the van as he lay there, a breathy mess, and let his hands fall against his stomach. Crumpling the napkin and tossing it in the centre console, she smiled to herself at the image of him. Muscles lax, hair a little messy, and every last bit of tension absent.

“That’s more like it.” She said in a quiet voice, causing his eyes to snap over to her. He opened his mouth to speak but she held up her finger at him when her holo buzzed. “Hey Regina. Mm, nah I’m over by San Dom. North Watson’ll take me a bit but I’ll head over now. Where’s the client hiding out?”

As she got the run-down on the urgent gig from Regina, V worked quickly to get her proper shoes on. Pulling her t-shirt out from her bag, she slipped it over her neck and flipped her hair out from under the collar. Pausing to pull her bra back up, she slipped both arms through the shirt holes and tugged the fabric down. Her loose pants required a bit more coordination, V asking a few clarifying questions of the Night City fixer as she tied the strings at her waist and yanked the skirt off. Shoving the discarded clothes into her bag, she ended the call with Regina and summoned Jackie’s Arch to her location. Heaving out a breath, she turned to face the bodyguard.

“Gotta run.” She said for lack of anything better. Slipping her bag onto her back, she wiped at her mouth, the taste of him lingering forcefully on her tongue. Now that it was—or rather _he_ was—finished, she was more than a little shocked at what had just happened. She wondered how it would impact things going forward between them.

“Wait—“ He straightened up, working quickly to do his pants back up as she put a hand on the van handle. Part of her wanted to abide by his request, to hear what it was he wanted to say. But the bigger part of her was very certain that there wasn’t really anything to be said that would change what had just happened.

“Sorry, if I’m not in North Watson in the next hour I’ll be escorting a severed head to the border instead of a client.” She turned her head at the sound of the motorcycle honking one parking spot over, the autonomous software timely as ever. She turned back to the bodyguard as she slipped out of the car. “Let me know when we’re good to go for the parade.”

She left him at that, closing the door behind her and hopping onto her bike. It wasn’t below her to acknowledge the fire brewing quietly between her legs, and she couldn’t help but wonder what it would have felt like to have him inside her. Thoughts she normally would have batted away, but given the evening’s events she had more cause than ever to indulge. Revving the bike twice, she reversed out of the parking spot and headed towards the main road, inputting the coordinates from Regina and immediately following the pre-selected route. If nothing else, at least she knew she’d have a partner who was at the top of his game for their suicide mission.  
  


* * *

  
When V had gotten the call, she was pinned down behind a wall of breezeblocks by some very unhappy Maelstrom gangoons. Turns out if you try and swipe _their_ recently swiped Militech delivery, they are not in fact totally cool with it. And by not cool, she meant would definitely try and kill you. Forgoing the call in favour of staying alive, V waited until she had downed the very last one of them and secured the package before calling the Arasaka bodyguard back.

He didn’t inquire after her wellbeing or ask how her search for Soulkiller fared. All he did was ask her to meet him at the coordinates he sent to her comm. It was a very short conversation, to be sure, but she figured if he’d meant to kill her now that he’d made it into Hanako’s good books he wouldn’t exactly have called her first.

Since the parade and the very rapid derailment of their plans that followed, V had wondered if Takemura would pull a vid villain trope and try to cut off loose ends. Blow job a trusted partner makes not. But he had yet to fulfill that prophecy, or rather deep fear, and so she had agreed to meet him. Best case scenario she’d get a much-needed bout of good news from him regarding the Relic. Worst case, she’d burn a bit of gas and time.

V left the Militech gear in the designated drop-off spot, waiting for her eddies to clear from Regina before heading towards Heywood. She couldn’t tell from the coordinates what her destination was, but given the Valentino territory she figured maybe a food joint, factory, or maybe just a nondescript place for a somewhat fugitive to meet his contact.

The air was the same smoggy haze that V had come to expect from Night City, cool against her skin as she wove in and out of traffic on her bike. Well, Jackie’s bike. She still had trouble accepting it as hers, like maybe she was just holding onto it for him until he could come back and get it himself. She was well aware that that particular scenario didn’t fit in too well with reality, but it was something that brought her comfort so she stuck to it.

The wider main streets branched off into narrower and less-traveled roads until she at last found herself in a network of run-down buildings. The usual lively crowds of Heywood had been filtered down to the underbelly, the outcast, the overlooked. It was a clear illustration of the wage gap in the city if she’d ever seen it. V pulled into an alleyway, hopping off her bike and scanning her surroundings for some indication of what she was walking into.

 _I’m at the address._ She sent to the bodyguard over her comm.

 _Down the stairwell. First door on the right_. _Knock four times._ He replied, heightening her suspicions.

V followed along anyways, descending two flights of very poorly-kept stairs and finding herself in a wide hallway. From the looks of it, the building was originally designed as a low-end office building for the few trying to outlast the corporations. The third light in the hallway was flickering like the intro of a bad horror BD, and V suddenly felt a whole whack of sympathy for the actors who recorded them. Punching down the fear, she approached the door on the right. It lacked any sort of indication beyond the slight discoloration from where a sign once hung. She lifted her hand and knocked in four quick consecutive bursts.

After two heartbeats, it opened a sliver to reveal the muzzle of a gun. In the time it took V to flinch, the familiar face was there in front of her. At his confirmation of who was there, Takemura opened the door just wide enough for her to slip through and closed it behind her.

“Jesus, Goro, you and your damn abandoned buildings.” She chided, waiting until he put the gun away to actually take in the location. Her initial assumption was dead wrong: this wasn’t some one-time debrief spot, this was a low-budget living quarter. V’s brow furrowed as she looked around, the subtle glow of a dozen candles casting a favourable light on the place. Hard to see a decade of dirt and grime when you turn off the fluorescents. What was even more noticeable though, was the smell. It lacked the mildew/smoke-filled/musty smell she came to expect from non-corpo buildings. Instead, there was something floral in the air, a scent that smelled the way her Nicola Sakura tasted. More than a little simulated, but a nostalgic call back to a part of nature she hadn’t encountered before.

“It is not abandoned, it is…sparsely populated. As any hideout should be.” He corrected her, taking a step into the room and folding both hands behind his back. V took in the few items of furniture: a bed with suspiciously clean-looking sheets, a small round table with three metal chairs, a filing cabinet, and a single counter unit with an old cooking element plugged in atop it.

“I stand corrected.” She joked, finally looking over at him and doing a double take. He lacked the usual formalwear get up that she had come to expect. Instead, Takemura was donning new clothes: a loose shirt with ¾ sleeves that bore the type of banding reminiscent of neo-traditional Japanese attire littering Kabuki Market, and a pair of culottes with wide legs that swayed with his movements. Both items were off-white, or maybe it was just the glow of the candlelight that altered their appearance. Regardless, seeing him in those clothes, in that environment, it did absolutely nothing to clear up why she was there. “Gotta admit, Goro, this is kinda shapin’ up to be the intro to a slasher BD.”

“Sit.” He motioned with one hand to the bed, which prompted her to raise an eyebrow. He didn’t move from his place, holding still even as she took a few steps. Hesitantly sitting on the edge of the mattress, it sank slowly beneath her weight. She watched carefully as he crossed to the filing cabinet, opening the middle drawer and lifting out a large sealed plastic package. Tearing open the top, he pulled out a bath towel and carried it over to her. “Cover with this. You will need to undress.”

“I will need to _what_ now?” She asked, wondering if she’d somehow missed something along the way. It didn’t stop the faint blush from spreading across her cheeks. “Goro, what the hell is this about?”

He was silent for a moment, the haunting blue of his cybernetic eyes piercing hers in the lowlight. “Do you recall what you said to me, the night we spoke with Hanako-sama?”

“Was that before or after we got jumped by ‘Saka soldiers?” She asked incredulously, crossing her arms and leaning back a little on the bed. In truth, she knew what he was talking about. Or at least, she had a pretty good guess. Takemura took his principles very seriously, and she knew what would have stood out for him that night. Heaving out a sigh, she unfolded her arms. “You told me I shouldn’t have gone back for you. I told you thank me later.”

He nodded once, a deliberate gesture, and offered her the towel once more.

“I would have died in that building, had you not returned. You spared Oda’s life when vengeance would have you take it, and you left Hellman alive for me. It seems I have much to thank you for.” He explained, watching as she hesitantly accepted the towel and set it in her lap. Whatever the synthweave was, it was impossibly soft. “With Hanako-sama on our side, I can only wait for further instruction. I can provide undivided attention…elsewhere.”

“Okay…” She tried to follow his words, extrapolate the meaning, but was still coming up short. “Still missin’ a few pieces here.”

“Your methods for relaxing. Your… _last hurrah_. They are short-lived. I will help you with this.” He explained, as if that shed any more light on things.

V sighed, resigning herself to mystery, and dropped her bag onto the ground. Kicking off her boots, she peeled off her socks and set her jacket atop her bag. Witnessing compliance, Takemura turned away from her and returned to the bag in the filing cabinet. If it was some attempt at giving her privacy, he was clearly forgetting that he’d not only seen her technically topless but his hands were pretty well acquainted with that part of her body. Still, he kept his back turned as she discarded her shirt, pants, bra, and underwear, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Sitting back on the bed, she unfolded the towel and draped it over her body, the fabric reaching from her collarbones to just above her knees and pooling at her sides.

“Good to go.” She said after a few moments, not wanting to drag out the suspense longer than necessary. Takemura’s footfalls on the out-of-place carpet that covered the ground were near-silent as he crossed over to her.

There had been absolutely zero discussion of what had happened between them that evening in the van in the time that passed. While she hadn’t exactly expected a heart-to-heart or interrogation, some part of V anticipated at least a subtle shift in their dynamic. It was bad enough not being in control of your own mind breaking down, but to not be in control of her emotions? Even worse. She hated that she felt some sort of spurning from the lack of acknowledgement, hated that she was even the slightest bit affected by it.

“Lay on your stomach.” He asked of her, eyes meeting hers to confirm silently what he requested before she had the chance to second guess. V hesitated all the same, holding onto the towel to keep covered as she rolled over into the middle of the bed. Since his fall from grace with the corporation, Takemura made frequent grumblings about his disdain for being dropped off payroll. Having to slum it sure was a change of pace for him, but despite cutting corners everywhere else he seemed to have at least a few things he wouldn’t compromise on. Namely, whatever the hell the ethereal smell was on the comforter. Detergent pods for the upper class? Some AI constructed top-shelf goods? Whatever the source or reason, it was a taste of luxury she could never claim for her own but she enjoyed the peripheral benefits all the same.

V folded her arms under her head, waiting patiently but jumping slightly as the bed sank around her. Takemura knelt over her body, legs pushing into the mattress on either side of her, and he carefully folded down the towel in even sections until her back was exposed. She heard the push top of a bottle and the sound of slick hands rubbing together.

“Relax.” He said as he pressed both palms to the centre of her back. Whatever was on his hands smelled even stronger of cherry blossoms than the rest of the room, the aroma filling up her lungs and threatening to transport her mind to a place she’d never been. V tensed at his touch, completely confused as to the entire situation, but she did as he asked and tried to relax.

When her muscles weren’t quite so tensed up, he at last began to move. He slid both hands up her back in unison, fanning them out to reach across her skin, before pulling back down with just enough pressure to feel good. V sighed at the sensation, her eyes flickering closed. He moved from shoulder blade to shoulder blade, rubbing in circles to break them free of tightness. In the centre of her back he used the heels of his hands, moving in specific lines to work the muscles there. His skin moved easily against hers, leaving V to wonder if the warmth she felt was from the oil or his hands themselves.

Moving upwards, the Arasaka bodyguard pressed his knuckles into either side of her neck and dragged them outwards to her shoulders, repeating the gesture several times until her head fell slack into her arms. When he was satisfied with her posture he dragged both hands down her back, thumbs pressing gently into her spine while his fingers splayed out to encapsulate her sides. Curving in to focus on the small of her back, he used his thumbs to push small concentric circles over her skin, fingers wrapped tight around her waist.

“Now, on your back.” He said in a quiet voice as he retreated from her, more oil being poured into his hands. It shook her from the hazy state his touch left her in, but she resisted the urge to joke _at least buy me dinner first_. Wherever he’d learned or practiced his technique, she wasn’t about to say something that might make him stop. She couldn’t remember ever feeling the kind of relaxation he was coaxing out of her. Turning over in her spot, the towel came back up to her chest. The new position, though, left her in the very awkward spot of not knowing where to look. She settled on the ceiling at first, misplacing the will to meet his eye as he knelt over her. “Relax.”

It was less of a command and more of a reminder, one that she tried earnestly to take to heart. He leaned over her, hands starting at her shoulders and moving inwards to her throat. Trailing his hands down her arms, he focused on her right hand and took it into both of his. Here, she looked at him; watched him, intrigued by the way his hands could move with such gentility. Not something you found much of in Night City. He massaged the palm of her hand in warm repetitive movements before taking each of her fingers between his knuckles in a drawn-out movement. He moved up to her forearm, then her upper arm, and lightly pressed across her collarbones so he could repeat the whole process with her left arm.

When he pulled away from her she found his eyes, the gesture lasting just long enough to make her nervous. He took the top hem of the towel in his fingertips and pulled it down an inch before pausing.

“Stop?” He asked, studying her expression. She surmised his meaning and shook her head, urging him onwards as a spark of excitement bloomed in her core. With her permission he proceeded to pull the towel down to just below her belly button, exposing her skin to the air and his gaze. He took more than a few moments to truly look at her, V resisting the urge to cover up under his piercing eyes. How in the hell was her body choosing _now_ to feel shy, considering what they’d done just a few weeks ago?

Before her self-doubt had a chance to derail his plans, Takemura rubbed his hands together and lay them across her abdomen. Sliding up her skin, he dipped between her breasts and up to her neck before pulling back down. He circled both palms around her breasts a handful of times, watching her reaction carefully, before finally gripping her in earnest. The tiniest noise escaped her at that, but the sensation was too good to let her worry about it. Pushing her breasts together, he ran his thumbs over her nipples in circular motions and stirred all the nerve endings awake.

He repeated this a few times and then released her, waiting until she looked him in the eye to lean down over her. Takamura kissed the circumference of each breast, tongue flicking against her skin with each movement, which really put a wrench in the whole _relax_ directive. V’s hands were twitching at her sides, resisting the urge to grab hold of him. When he took a nipple into his mouth, her self-control couldn’t keep the soft moan at bay. He moved his tongue like he was itching for a repeat, gently pressing his teeth to the peak before devoting his touch and time to the other. Dragging his tongue over each peak, saturating them, he gently blew against them in a move that made her shiver. It sent goosebumps surging over her skin, doubling in number with each repetition.

When she was just antsy enough to clench her fists, he moved his lips down her middle to her belly button. The absence was equal parts reprieve and regret, giving her a moment to regain a sliver of composure. Takemura gripped at the bunched-up towel sitting over her waist and met her eye once more.

“Stop?” He repeated, one corner of his mouth curling slightly when she shook her head once more. He pulled away the towel completely, setting it at the foot of the bed, and lay his hands on her thighs. A role reversal she hadn’t seen coming, but wasn’t about to complain about. He scooted down and slowly settled between her legs, rubbing along the length of her upper thighs a few times to get her accustomed to his touch.

It was a far cry from his roughhousing in the lifted van.

The bodyguard leaned down to kiss just under her navel, the hairs of his beard scratching at her skin as he traveled further and further down. Trailing his lips to her inner thighs, he waited until her eyes looked down at him to slide his tongue between her folds. It immediately made her tense up, hands curling into the comforter below her. Takemura licked at her again, languid and intentional, waking up the dormant parts of her body with a simple touch.

“ _Fuck._ ” She breathed quietly, swallowing hard as his tongue zeroed in on her clit. His attention was devoted entirely to the small bundle of nerve endings there, alternating between circling around and flicking over it. His mouth was warm against her, the mixture of his spit and her arousal leaving a slick sound as the backdrop to their escapades. He worked her over with the same attention and precision he applied to his work, but with too much tenderness for her to feel like just another job.

Maybe it had just been too long since she last got laid, or maybe it was that it’d been too long since a guy actually went down on her for her pleasure and not just to get her wet so he could fuck her—but she was drawing close to the edge painfully fast. If she hadn’t managed to turn the bodyguard into a mess in a few minutes time in a stolen van, she may have felt some embarrassment of how long she was lasting. Truthfully, it was something about it being _his_ touch that was winding up her insides.

The cybernetic inlays on his hands were cool against her skin, a fact she noticed for only a moment before he started to move his tongue rapidly over her clit. She moaned, hands reaching down against her better judgement and tangling into his hair. When her hips inadvertently ground against his tongue at her own pace, he reached a forceful arm over her hips to cement her to the bed. Her lungs were stammering in her chest, trying to pull in more air than she could handle to keep up with the racetrack pace of her nerves.

When her legs shuddered, she felt the full-body fireworks of a much-missed climax. It bounced through the points of her body and folded back in on itself, buzzing over her skin. Only when her body released did she realize how hard she was gripping his hair. Slumping down into the mattress, she zoned out a little while her body tried to recover. Takemura sat up between her legs, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, and looked at her with more than a little satisfaction.

“Relax.” His word of the night, apparently. He slowly massaged her thighs, carefully avoiding any the still-sensitive spot between her legs, while she came down from her high. He moved his hands over one leg at a time, massaging out the knots and tension, forcing her to be present in her own body. He moved down her calves, focusing on any spots that needed extra attention, before working at her well-worn feet. By the time he was finished she had most definitely relaxed, well-aware of just how comfortable the second-hand bed was all things considered. When he began to inch his hands between her thighs again, she looked down to find him staring. He maintained eye contact as he pressed at her entrance, free hand pressing on her pelvis to keep her from rising to meet him. “Should I stop?”

“No.” She said firmly, the word still came out a little too breathless for her liking, but they were just a _little_ past coyness for her to really be bothered by it. He eased a single finger inside her, slowly, _too_ slowly, and watched for any indication that he should change course. V reached down and lay a hand over his atop her abdomen, fingers softly curling around the edge of his palm. After a few repetitions and the familiarization of her muscles to the presence, he eased a second finger in.

The bodyguard stretched her out bit by bit, pushing at her walls in small increments. When he was satisfied, he shifted gears so suddenly it made V’s head spin. He curled his fingers deep inside her, feeling around until he hit a dense patch of nerves that made her hips jerk. Moving like he’d received a kill order, Takemura was solely focused on hitting that spot inside her. He moved his fingers with a speed that she struggled to keep up with, her legs and feet fidgeting against the comforter at the feeling building up impossibly fast in her core.

Takemura leaned over her, lips returning to her breast and flooding her brain with stimulation. V grabbed fistfuls of the comforter, twisting it up at her sides, as she tried to steady the quake of her body. She whimpered at the feeling overtaking her for the second time, the bodyguard ruthlessly stimulating her even as the pleasure rocked through her. She cried aloud, shuddering hard and pushing at him only when she couldn’t stand it anymore. He was abruptly receptive, pulling away from her instantly but staying close to coax her back down. She watched through cloudy eyes as he brought both fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with satisfaction.

While V tried to gain some semblance of control over herself, she watched motionlessly as the bodyguard lifted the clean shirt up and over his head. Despite glances here and there, it was the first time she’d seen his bare skin before. The cybernetics that were so prominently featured on his neck ran down his shoulders to his forearms, and down his chest to just above his sternum. Separate, thinner filaments were present on the backs of his hands, across his face, and wrapping around his hip-bones. All of them, she imagined, only helped in making him a very specialized weapon for Saburo Arasaka. Hell, even without them he was dangerous—she’d seen that much in the abandoned building when the corpo soldiers came for blood.

When Takemura reached out and gently eased her back onto her stomach, she offered no resistance. V was all tied up in a web of afterglow and relaxed muscles that she doubted she’d be much good in any kind of fight in her current state. _Damn good thing he wasn’t actually planning that slasher BD_ , she thought to herself.

V listened as he oiled his hands, the bottle thumping somewhere on the bed. He gripped her hips firmly and pressed inwards, working at the muscles of her ass with all the courtesy he had the rest of her body. He trailed down to the backs of her thighs, taking his time with the precise movements until she had relaxed to whatever degree he was waiting for. At that, he brought his hands back up over her back and rubbed her neck. The quiet rustling of fabric on fabric piqued her interest, but she was provided an answer when she felt the warm skin of his legs straddle her hips. Perhaps the louder statement, though, was the hard length of him that pressed against her ass as he leaned down.

Takemura kissed the nape of her neck, up, and around to her jawline. Biting at her earlobe, he reached a hand between them and guided the tip of his cock to her entrance where he paused. His voice, so close at her ear, was low enough to make her tremble.

“Stop?” He asked one last time, waiting patiently and unmoving until she responded. Did she really have it in her for a third round? The answer didn’t matter, because there was no way V could deny the very thing she’d fantasized about an embarrassing amount of times since she sucked him off in a stolen van.

“ _Absolutely fuckin’ not_.” She asserted, sitting up a little and turning her head to face him proper. The quiet laugh he let out at her words was too dark not to rile her up, but the way he captured her lips with his made everything else stand still. He kissed her deeply, taking advantage of the distraction to slip inside her fully. “S-shit.” She whined, head falling down onto the mattress at the way he stretched her.

It caught her off guard when he let loose a moan of his own, keeping perfectly still as though maybe it was _him_ who needed to get accustomed to the feeling of _her_. She listened as he steadied his breathing and then very slowly eased out of her nearly to the tip of his cock. Then, with painful control, he pushed into her again. When he was satisfied with his level of command over both their bodies, Takemura reached his hands down to take hold of hers. His palms pressed against the backs of her hands, fingers lacing together, and he extended their arms up towards the pillows.

He rolled his hips in languid movements as if trying to hit every last spot inside of her. Quiet curses left his mouth, the sounds ringing in her ears like the gentle bells in Misty’s shop. There was a deep peace to the way they sounded—or maybe it was just hearing him in such bliss. With each movement he buried himself inside her to the hilt, dedicated to reaching that depth even as he slowly started to pick up the pace. When V lifted her hips up to meet him, the tip of his cock started to hit that ultra-sensitive spot he’d worked at before. It evoked her share of noises, fingers wrapping tight around his as if it would help keep her grounded.

V’s body was going wild at the sound of his heavy breaths near her ear, the force with which he was driving into her causing the headboard to slam into the wall in intervals. It wasn’t the No-Tell Motel, but given the location of his chosen hideout she figured the only other people that might be around to hear were either fugitives like Goro or people meeting up to do the exact thing they were. When he kicked up the speed further, the slick sound of their bodies weaving together sang back up to the groaning bed. She begged him not to stop, pleaded with him to keep doing exactly what he was doing as she felt the promise of a third climax head her way.

He pulled away all at once, spurning her from the blissful feeling and leaving her searching for some explanation for his absence. She groaned, trying to catch her breath to complain but unable to in time. He flipped her over with ease and heaved her up, pulling her into his lap. He positioned them so he could cradle her, legs supporting her body, and wrapped his arms around her middle. They sat like that, more than a little out of breath, as she impatiently waited for him to resume.

He used their brief hiatus to kiss her, groaning into her mouth at the contact, and she felt a shiver run through her body. V reached up to lock her hands behind his neck, musing at the way he felt on and in her mouth. After a few moments of indulgence he pulled away, lining up his cock and pushing into her once again. They collectively sighed at the sensation; V desperate to return to their previous pace. He held her back, though, and kept her body still while he moved into her.

“Yes, just so.” He whispered, forehead pressing against hers. “Don’t rush.”

“Easier said than done,” she complained. “You feel too fucking good.”

He insisted on his woefully restrictive pace, drawing out each thrust so long it made her focus on just how every miniscule movement felt. It was threatening to drive her crazy, her mind not used to so much stimulation unless she was getting shot at. At least in those situations she could fight back. Here, all she could do was experience it to the fullest with all of his attention on her alone.

The more he pushed into her, the more her tenseness gave way to sheer bliss. V’s head fell down onto his shoulder, the release of her last stubborn bit of control signalling to Takemura that he could switch gears. While the pace wasn’t nearly as punishing as before, he rammed into her forcefully enough that she might’ve fallen off him all together if they weren’t holding each other. V moaned as he bounced her on top of him, his grunts muffled through her hair as the distant rumblings of her climax brewed.

“私を見て…Watashiwomite… _Look at me_.” He directed, one hand sliding up to the back of her neck so he could lift her head up. She struggled to focus on him, nails grasping at his skin like it could somehow control the mess of her body’s nerves. He repeated the word, her translator fulfilling its purpose and letting her know what he wanted of her.

V obliged, but the moment her eyes met his he drilled into her with unforgiving speed. She whimpered as he took her, unable to pry her eyes away from him for fear he’d pull away again. She tripped over choppy breaths, a whine dripping from her lips into a shrill noise that coincided with her full-body solar flare. She cried out and immediately fell against him, body writhing even as he filled her up with his own release.

Takemura collapsed forward soon after, taking her with him, but found the strength to keep from crushing her against the mattress. He eased out of her, V’s body painfully aware of the loss, and fell beside her on the bed. They lay together, shoulder to shoulder, while their cacophony of ragged breathing slowly fizzled out to baseline.

While it certainly wasn’t how V had expected the night to go, she couldn’t deny that it was an experience that would stay with her. Had she ever been with someone so attentive to her body? Had she ever been so properly and thoroughly fucked? Way her life was going, the bodyguard had probably just gone ahead and ruined sex with anyone else for her. In the afterglow of their encounter, the stickiness of her body more and more apparent, V was left to confront the very uncomfortable truth that when her climax subsided she was still left feeling…something. What it was, she couldn’t hope to pinpoint, but the thought of just leaving him formed a clear undeniable response in her psyche: _no_.

“Did you mean what you said?” She found herself asking, realizing as she spoke that he was not in fact privy to the train of thought that led her to that question.

“Hmm?” He replied, turning to look at her. She didn’t want to risk doing the same, unsure if she could handle the certainty of his gaze regardless of his response.

“That night we were staking out the factory…You said sometimes you wish you were a Nomad. That you could leave everything behind and just be free.” She recalled the moment vividly in her head, a half-eaten pizza between them and a selection of, as Goro put it, the world’s worst sushi. Was it before or after that stray cat, the Bakeneko, showed up? That much, she couldn’t remember. “Did you mean that?”

He thought on her words, and on his past ones, for several moments in the lowlight of the room. He didn’t shift away from her but looked at the ceiling while he took the time to process and form a response.

“I cannot say yes, nor can I say no, with full confidence.” He announced at last. “It is…difficult for me to see beyond my current mission.”

It was her turn for quiet contemplation. Rubbing her lips together, V lay both hands on her stomach. “Well, from this petty thief to one disgraced bodyguard, don’t close that door unless you have to. When all is said and done, regardless of how this plays out, you can’t say you’re alone in this city if I’m still breathin’. Maybe I show you just how liberating Nomad life can be.” She heaved herself up at that, pausing to turn and tap his chest. “And not just cause you fuck like a champion.”

She moved away at that, reaching over the edge of the bed for her shirt. A hand on her wrist held her back, though, and forced her to look over at him. He was sitting up, the usually well-kept hair of his hanging in messy straggly pieces around his face.

“V, wait.” He said urgently, moving his hand down her wrist to her palm. She sat frozen, the sudden importance of his tone catching her off guard. He seemed to struggle with getting out his words, but when he broke the silence it wasn’t what she had expected. “Stay with me. Here. Now.”

At that, she blushed in full. The mess of butterflies in her stomach wreaked havoc on her ability to play it cool, but she doubted it would have much impact on him this late in the game. She swallowed hard, knowing the question she was about to ask had the potential to completely shatter the feeling within her chest. Still, she pursued.

“Why?” She asked. One syllable, one word, one fork in the road that would alter the future. This wasn’t the van, this wasn’t a quickie she could easily escape from. One way or another, they would both answer for what had just transpired. She just needed to know what that reckoning would look like.

“Because,” he began, waiting until he gently pulled her closer to him before continuing. “I do not wish to have you out of my sight. Or gone from my side.” He waited until she heard him, listened to him, fully understood his words, before laying down once more. Takemura brought V into his arms, running his hand over the small of her back.

V couldn’t begin to guess if she’d be dead in three month’s time. She couldn’t guess if Goro would be dead too. What she knew was that burdens were easier with two sets of hands, and his fit too perfectly in the gaps of hers to refuse.

**Author's Note:**

> Two important notes:  
> 1\. I totally stole the whole sensitive cybernetics thing from the wonderful relinquish_one_bullet, who has THE most incredible takemura story so go check hers out!  
> 2\. Really hoping this didn't come off as disrespectful/rude towards sex workers, not my intent but happy to change if it reads that way.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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